Page 20 of Savage Revenge (Savage Sins #1)

Jordyn

PLAYING WITH GUNS NEVER ENDS WELL

I’m halfway up the stairs when his heavy steps click on the marble floor.

“Don’t walk away from me, little girl,” he shouts.

I slow for a millisecond at his words.

Little girl.

Why is that so hot?

Something to think about later. When I’m alone and not being chased by my captor.

“Leave me alone, asshole!” I yell at him.

I don’t look back, but I only hear one set of footsteps, so I think it’s only Cash after me. I’m not sure if Cash told Caleb to keep more of a distance from me because I’ve barely seen him since the incident at the pool. It’s been kind of nice but also kind of lonely.

As soon as I get into my room, I slam the door even though I can’t lock it. It’s only a matter of time before he crashes through it, but it still felt damn good.

I haven’t even made it halfway to the bathroom when Cash strides through the threshold, the walls practically shaking as he slams the heavy door.

Before I can run, he’s on me, grabbing me from behind, his veiny, tattooed forearm pressed against my soft stomach.

A rush of adrenaline spikes through me, and I fight against him.

He’s bigger and stronger, lifting me off my feet so I’m powerless.

“Leave me alone! Get out!” I scream. “I hate you.”

He chuckles, low and evil. “Actually, I don’t think you do, kitten. I think you want to keep pretending there’s nothing between us.”

My breath comes out fast and harsh as I wiggle and try to elbow him. “There is nothing between us,” I hiss.

It’s a lie. I know it. He knows it. But I’ll die before I admit feelings toward Cash Savage. He’s an asshole.

We struggle against each other. He’s stronger, but I’m not making it easy on him.

With all my thrashing, I end up turned so we’re chest to chest. I shove at him, but he doesn’t budge.

“I hate you,” I spit out.

His jaw flexes. “Hate me all you want, but if you think you’re going on a date or fucking any other man, you’re so wrong, baby. The only person you’re going to be fucking is me.”

What?

Did he just say that for real?

Heat spreads through me, shooting straight between my legs. His dick is pressed against me, hard and long, and I loathe myself because I want to touch it.

“I wouldn’t fuck you if your life depended on it,” I spit at him.

Using my palms, I push and shove, but he continues to fight me, grabbing my wrists to keep me from slapping him in the face.

The way he overpowers me. How can he restrain me with one hand while I battle with all my energy?

It sends a spark of electricity through me that I shouldn’t feel. My panties shouldn’t be damp.

As I’m flailing my arms, scratching and striking his chest, torso, and arms, my fingers come into contact with something at his waist, tucked into the waistband of his slacks.

It's cold and heavy.

I freeze for half a second before I move again. Without a plan, I grab it, yanking it free, surprised by the weight.

His gun.

As soon as he realizes what I’ve discovered, his eyes widen, just slightly, before he reaches back to grab it from me, but I’m quick. I stumble back a step, my breath shaky, and raise it with both hands, pointing it at him.

Blood rushes in my ears, and my skin feels like ice.

I’ve never held a gun.

But I’ve seen enough of them to know how to turn off the safety and pull the trigger.

Cash doesn’t move.

He just stares at me, eyes steel-like on mine. “What are you doing, kitten?”

“I’m going to kill you,” I whisper. “And then I’m going to run.”

He takes a step closer, and I flinch, raising the gun higher. Why isn’t he afraid?

“Shoot me then. Go ahead. Shoot me, baby.”

I shake my head. “I’m not bluffing, Cash. I’ll do it.”

A slow smirk forms on his lips. Dark and deadly.

“Do it, kitten. Shoot me if you want to do it so badly.”

We lock eyes.

I don’t breathe.

My hands shake as he takes another step closer.

“Stop,” I exhale.

Another step.

The barrel of the gun presses against his chest, but he doesn’t grab it. Instead, he reaches up and digs his fingers into the hair at the back of my neck, fisting it in his hands.

“You were hoping to get fucked tonight, kitten? Hoping the asshole who was going to take you out would make you scream? Is that what you need? To scream, baby?”

My heart is going to beat out of my ribcage as Cash leans in, his mouth hovering near mine. The tip of the gun digs into his sternum, and my hands shake. He talks so filthy. Like he knows exactly what I need.

“I bet if Daddy slid his hand between your legs right now, you’d be soaked.”

A small noise escapes me, but I don’t lower the gun.

“Shoot me, kitten,” he goads me quietly.

Slowly, with his fist still gripping my hair, his other hand slides over one of my breasts, giving it a gentle squeeze before he trails a finger down my stomach.

My body hums and my brain goes fuzzy, and when his warm, calloused fingers start to slide into the waistband of my shorts, my knees nearly crumble. He isn’t gentle, but he isn’t rough, either. His movements tell me he knows exactly what he’s doing.

A shudder runs through me. I can’t remember the last time a man touched me. I’ve never ever felt like this with any man before. So out of control. So needy. So desperate for more.

Cash moves his hand even lower until he reaches my clit, and I tremble as he rubs the perfect spot that has me seeing stars. The heat of his fingers and the pressure he uses are perfect. As if he’s touched me like this a million times before. Like he knows my body better than I do.

“Do you still want to shoot me? Or do you want Daddy to make you come?”

A moan slips from my lips, and my head falls back as he teases my pussy. My hand relaxes slightly, the heavy weight of the gun pulling it down. I don’t say anything. I won’t admit what I want.

“You’re soaked, kitten. Is that all for me?” He presses a kiss to my jaw, his short beard scratching at my skin. “Such a smooth pussy. Jesus. Do you know how fucking hard you make me?”

I shake my head and whimper as he pushes a finger inside me. After a beat, he adds a second one, stretching me so perfectly. The sound of him thrusting in and out of my wetness makes my cheeks heat. I hate how aroused I am for him. He hears it too and smirks.

“I can promise you the asshole you were going to go on a date with wouldn’t make you wet like this.

He won’t make you come like I will. He wouldn’t even know what to do with someone as perfect as you.

You’re a fucking goddess, baby girl. You know that?

A bratty goddess that I want to punish and fuck at the same time. ”

Oh shit. I squeeze my eyes shut, relishing in the sound of his deep voice and the feel of his thick fingers. This is what pleasure should feel like.

My entire body tenses and my pussy clamps around him, needy as hell. I’m so close. I just need a little more. Just a tiny bit more.

“Ask Daddy to make you come,” he commands softly, nipping at my neck.

Oh God. I’m truly going to hate myself for this. But… I need it so bad. I loathe him, but I want him even more. Just this once. I can go back to hating him tomorrow. Maybe I’ll even shoot him then, too.

He adds a third finger and rubs his thumb over my clit.

I grind against him, spreading my thighs wider, and barely holding myself up as my head drops forward to rest on his shoulder.

The gun is still between us, but I use one hand to grip his bicep to steady myself.

His grip tightens in my hair, sending a zing of pain through me that goes straight to my nipples. I cry out, my muscles tensing.

“Please…” I whimper. “Please make me come, Daddy.”

As soon as the words come out of my mouth, everything stops. He pulls his hand away at the same time as he snatches the gun from my limp hand.

My eyes fly open to find him glaring at me. “Bad girls don’t get to come, kitten.”

He brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean while I try to grasp what just happened.

“Cash,” I mumble, my mind still fuzzy and reeling. “What the fuck?”

“Next time you point a gun at me, kitten, pull the fucking trigger,” he sneers. “Go to bed. And don’t you dare touch your pussy because I will know and I will punish you, and it will be much worse than what I just gave you.”

Then he’s gone, the sound of the lock engaging after him, and I’m left staring at the door with tears welling in my eyes as my entire body continues to tremble.

What did I just do?

Oh my God.

I just let Cash finger-fuck me.

I asked him to make me come.

And he pulled away.

A sob works its way up from my chest as I go to the bed and slump down. That motherfucking bastard. How dare he? I should have shot him. But he played me. Like a damn instrument. Then he left me hanging.

Well, fuck him.

I can finish myself off.

Pissed and still turned on, I get under the covers and slide my hand into my panties. As soon as my fingers touch my clit, I let out a sigh. And then, I stare at the ceiling, trying to find the right spot to touch, but I can’t. It almost feels like I’m numb.

His words replay in my head.

Go to bed. And don’t you dare touch your pussy because I will know and I will punish you, and it will be much worse than what I just gave you.

He’s not the boss of me. In fact, he can literally go fuck himself. Except, all of a sudden, my arousal fizzles out, and I’m stewing over the fact that he just edged me and then left.

Grinding my molars together, I pull my hand free and roll over onto my stomach, punching the pillow as I do.

I hate that man.

I hope he chokes on a gummy bear.

Tomorrow, one way or another, I’m getting the hell out of his house and as far away from Cash Savage as possible.

There’s got to be something somewhere in this house. Although knowing Cash, he probably locked up every bit of medication after he brought me here. He wouldn’t want to take a chance of me swallowing an entire bottle of something because then I’d be worthless to him. But dammit, I need a painkiller.